Status Quo
by Sandshrew777
Summary: We heard about Troy, Gabriella, Zeke, and Martha's secrets during "Stick to the Status Quo", but the others are not without their own. Short, drabble-like installments featuring the thoughts of our favorite ten. Movie pairings.
1. Kelsi: When Seven of Ten Isn't Enough

**Author's Note: Welcome. Each chapter will be devoted to one character reflecting on the events of "Stick to the Status Quo", from the first movie. Each has their own secret that they're "ready to tell", and each reveals something about one of the ten in the process. There will be ten chapters. This one features Kelsi, talking about Troy, and revealing her secret as she goes. Enjoy the drabbling.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. I'm not making money off of this.**

* * *

If someone had come up to me yesterday and said that I'd be helping Troy Bolton try and sing his way into the musical, I'd've probably said that they needed to lay off the pot.

But here I am, sitting in the music room, waiting for Troy.

I'm early, of course.

He's not late.

I'm always early for things like this.

I like to warm myself up a little.

Y'know, just in case my fingers aren't exactly ready to play today.

It's not that I don't love to play.

I do.

It's just...

Sometimes...

I wish people saw me as something more.

Something -

Someone -

Who's not just an accompianist.

Who's not just a piece of furniture in the room.

Who's not the shy little girl who can't speak her mind.

Someone.

Someone more.

I used to do the Scholastic Decathalon.

I was never on the starting team, like Taylor.

They only subbed me in for the math section.

Nobody can count like Kelsi, they said.

It was perfect.

It was my chance to shine.

But I was shining as the same old thing.

Like a plastic diamond ring in the sun.

And I had a meltdown.

Round seven of the competition.

All eyes were on me to get East High back in the lead.

And I didn't choke.

I melted.

I think they gave me ten points for trying.

Ten out of a hundred.

East High lost that year.

I never went back.

I just hid in my music.

Hid in the same old thing.

Hid where I knew the spotlight wouldn't find me, even though it shone on me all the time.

'Cause it was never really me.

Just a plastic imitation.

A knock.

Troy.

I don't want the spotlight.

He can have it.

I'm more than happy to help him get it.

He's Troy Bolton, after all.

He deserves it because he works for it.

The door's open, Troy.

Let some light in.

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**Author's Note: If you were thinking while you read this, please leave a review and share the thoughts with me! All thoughts gladly welcomed.**


	2. Jason: Worth a Thousand Words

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, Kelsi revealed her secret (being on the decathalon team once), and chatted about Troy a little bit. This chapter features Jason, and he'll be talking about Ryan (for the most part). Please enjoy, and please review. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, Martha'd have had characterization.**

* * *

I've always been the one who sees things differently.

And different's not bad.

At least, I thought it wasn't.

But the whole school seems to be up in arms over Troy and Gabriella.

They say it's not their thing.

They say that singing in the theatre belongs to Ryan and Sharpay.

They say it's different.

I say it's cool.

I've never heard them sing, but they got a callback.

That must mean they're good.

As good as the Evans twins.

And nobody's been as good as them for...

Well, nobody's been as good as them.

Them.

Everyone sees them as them.

As two.

Never one plus one.

But I see it differently.

I see:

Blonde hair, layered, brushed to within a millimeter of perfection.

Blond hair, hidden underneath a hat for none to see.

Blonde hair, like a cascading waterfall.

Blond hair, sticking up in all directions.

Hat on his desk.

Hands over his eyes.

I made sure to take the picture with the silencer on and the flash off.

I see things differently because I see them preserved.

I don't look at the big picture.

I look at little ones.

From moment to moment.

I see two when others see one.

I don't know much.

But I know what I see.

I see things that may surprise people.

Things that are different.

And I don't think that's so bad.

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**Author's Note: Like? Dislike? Review!**


	3. Ryan: All of My World's Not a Stage

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, we checked in with Jason, talking about Ryan, and about his secret: he likes photography. This chapter showcases Ryan, who talks a lot about Kelsi and in the process reveals his secret. Please enjoy, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, Sharpay would be a bit more vulnerable.**

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I love to perform.

I don't care what it is.

Shakespeare, a dance routine, a ballad...

Whatever.

I don't care.

I love them all.

And I love to perform.

To throw everything I've got into it.

To watch the faces of the audience from a dimly lit stage.

To sing, to dance, to act.

To perform.

But it seems like all I do now is perform.

Kelsi was ready to play for us and I had to tell her we had a recording.

And I wanted to be nice.

Kind.

Polite.

Me.

But I wasn't alone on the stage.

Sharpay was there.

So I gave a performance.

Told her we didn't need her.

In not so many words.

Trying to be clever.

She looked...

Sad.

Tired.

And maybe -

Maybe -

A little disappointed.

Like maybe I could've been -

Something -

Someone -

Nicer.

Kinder.

Not Sharpay.

Me.

I got so distracted by her face that I couldn't perform.

I couldn't perform!

At least, not well.

I was going to apologize to her after the song.

But I had to keep performing.

Throw my hat into the crowd.

Walk off with Sharpay.

But I could come back.

Help Kelsi pack up her music.

Compliment her on her song.

We just had to perform it Sharpay's way.

You know how it is.

And I'm sorry about what I said.

So are we okay?

Are we -

Maybe -

Friends?

But I never got to ask her.

'Cause when I came back, through the backstage entrance, Troy and Gabriella were there.

Singing.

And they were amazing.

That's how Kelsi's song should've been sung.

But I didn't sing it.

Not with Sharpay with me.

I performed it.

I heard Darbus give them a callback.

I had to be surprised the next day when we saw the callback list.

I had to perform.

And when we got to lunch, I wanted to say something to Kelsi.

Compliment her on her song.

And I'm sorry about what I've never said.

That I think you're cool.

And maybe -

Maybe -

We could be...

Friends?

But Sharpay made me perform again.

And now I'm sitting in history.

Five minutes before class starts.

So I can think.

So I don't have to perform.

So -

Troy and Gabriella want our parts.

And I say:

They can have them.

Maybe if I can step out of the spotlight, I can be.

Be something -

Someone -

Nicer.

Kinder.

I can be me.

I'm done performing.

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**Author's Note: Did you like it? Couldn't stand it? Somewhere in between? Leave me a review and let me know!**


	4. Taylor: Too Many Hands on Deck

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, we visited with Ryan, who talked about Kelsi and about his secret: he heard Troy and Gabriella's audition with Kelsi. This time, Taylor's up, with some interesting words. Please enjoy, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I'd be rich. Rich, I tell you!**

* * *

Gabriella's run off with Troy again.

To "practice".

Yeah, right.

And I'm a pancake-making, purple-and-orange spotted armadillo.

I'm sure they do practice.

Really!

I do!

I wouldn't be too hard on her if she were to sneak in a few -

Accidental -

Touches.

Bumps.

Collisions.

'Cause:

For a white boy, Troy's hot.

Those eyes...

Those abs...

And the killer smile...

Yeah, definitely hot.

Needs to do something about the hair, though.

Looks like a Yorkshire Terrier after a bath.

But he's still hot.

And I wouldn't fault Gabriella for wanting to -

Uh -

Be a little clumsy.

I would if I were her.

Normally, I wouldn't break my rule.

No boys -

Ever.

Not after Jimmy.

We took in a boarder.

My freshman year.

Jimmy.

We needed the money.

Dad was in between jobs.

Fired because he shot his mouth off at his boss.

Can't keep his mouth shut.

Guess that's where I get it from.

And Mom doesn't make much waitressing.

So:

Jimmy.

He looked clean.

He looked respectable.

Like your dream boarder.

And I definitely approved.

Those eyes...

Those abs...

And the killer smile...

Yeah, definitely hot.

For a white guy.

We spent a lot of time together.

He gave me rides to school.

I helped look over his band's contracts.

Not even a rock band.

A Christian band.

Gospel.

Bluegrass.

He played the banjo.

And after a while...

It got to the point where I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I'm in algebra.

Jimmy.

I'm in English.

Jimmy.

I'm in organic chem.

Jimmy.

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy -

Everywhere.

And so:

One day, for one glorious moment -

I stopped thinking about him.

His eyes widened.

Then closed.

His mouth opened.

And for a second -

A second -

He was kissing back.

_"Jimmy!"_

He pulled back.

It's not you, Taylor.

It's not you.

I'm just -

Not ready.

He looked so clean.

So respectable.

Like my dream man.

But he wasn't.

He moved out the next day.

I haven't thought about him -

Or any boy -

Since.

So, Gabriella:

Troy's all yours, sweetheart.

He looks clean.

He looks respectable.

Like your dream man.

And honey?

I hope he is.

I really do.

But I've given up on white boys.

Maybe -

Someday -

I'll find somebody -

Someone -

Who's right.

But if he even thinks about hurting you -

Whether he means it or not -

His ass is mine.

Because no white boy's going to hurt me -

You -

Never again.

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**Author's Note: Please review!**


	5. Sharpay: Only the King is Greater than I

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Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, we found Taylor, telling us about Gabriella, and revealing her secret: her family took on a boarder, once. Now, Sharpay's on the horn. Please enjoy, and please review.

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, Troy would've been just one guy's voice in the first film.**

* * *

This is ridiculous!

Absolutely ridiculous.

When did things get so out of control?

When did people start...

Blending?

Mixing?

Becoming one?

It's unacceptable.

We're supposed to stay separated.

Jocks with jocks.

Cheerleaders with cheerleaders.

Geeks with geeks.

Skaters with skaters.

Actors with actors.

It's for our own good.

People can't be united.

If we're united, nobody shines.

And besides:

Geeks can't understand skaters.

Cheerleaders can't understand geeks.

Jocks can't understand actors.

And what people don't understand, they destroy.

Not that I'm trying to destroy that Einsteinette and her friends.

No.

I understand them.

I transcend the restrictions.

I understand everyone -

Because I'm the one who created these distinctions.

We used to be united.

Ninth grade:

Long tables, rectangular, shoved together in long lines.

United.

Jocks with geeks with cheerleaders with skaters with actors.

United.

I convinced the staff to split up the tables.

Get some round ones.

Put some up on the second floor.

And still people were mixing.

Jocks with geeks with cheerleaders with skaters with actors.

United.

So I started separating them.

A whisper here.

A rumor there.

A bit of blackmail everywhere.

By October, I had them separated.

All except one:

Taylor McKessie.

She went from table to table.

Sat with the geeks to eat, then moved to talk with the cheerleaders.

Then ate with the skaters and talked with the jocks.

Whenever she came to the actors' tables, I sent Ryan to get rid of her.

But she kept coming back.

If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.

So for a whole week I spread the nastiest rumors:

Taylor used to pick her nose and then eat it.

When she was in the sixth grade!

Taylor helps Mr. Rockford grade the daily quizzes.

That's why your grades are so low.

Taylor slept with the entire wrestling team.

At the same party!

But she kept coming back.

But nobody would talk with her.

Nobody would eat with her.

Only the geeks -

I made sure she had a place.

Because everyone needs a place.

I understand that.

I understand them.

She finally gave up.

Gave in.

And I reigned supreme:

The queen, behind the scenes.

I hear she's rather cynical these days.

Hates everyone that's not a geek.

What a shame.

She just doesn't understand people like I do.

(And yet...)

(She's the one sharing the spotlight with the golden girl.)

(She's the one getting all the juicy details.)

(And I'm the bitch without a place.)

(Everyone needs a place.)

I...

I'm going to get it back.

Control.

I don't care what it takes.

I am the Queen.

I understand everyone.

And I will reign supreme.

Even if I have to lock my heart away in ice.

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**Author's Note: Please review, and thanks for reading!**


	6. Chad: Me, Through a Glass, Darkly

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, we checked in with Sharpay, who talked about Taylor and her secret: she was responsible for creating the clique system at East High. This time, we've got Chad stepping into the spotlight.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. Wish I did, but, alas: life goes on.**

* * *

Zeke bakes.

He fucking bakes!

When the hell was he going to tell us that?

I've known him for three years running, and never once did he even hint to any of us that he...

Bakes.

So is he...gay now?

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Just because a guy bakes doesn't mean he's gay.

What a fucking stupid, idiotic thing to think.

Zeke ain't any different.

He's still Zeke.

He just...

Bakes.

And Troy sings.

Fuck, I hope Jason doesn't have any weird secret he feels like sharing.

I mean, it's nice Zeke got it all off his chest and everything.

If it was bothering him, I'm all for him letting it out.

But...

Baking?

I mean, come on!

We've been friends for three years running.

You'd think I would've noticed something by now.

Like how he always lingered at the dessert table in the lunch line.

Or how he always skipped basketball practice if it was on the first of the month to go grocery shopping with his mom.

Or that whenever we went over to his house, the TV was always on the Food Network channel before we changed it to a game.

Yeah, I saw it all.

But I never put it together.

And why?

'Cause I'm too fucking stupid, that's why.

Just like usual.

I...

I just wish that sometimes...

I could be...

Something -

Someone -

Who doesn't need his friends to bail him out when he doesn't do his homework.

(Because he just doesn't get simultaneous equations.)

Who gets to lead the way.

(Because he's too afraid to take anything away from Troy - he deserves it because he works for it.)

Who actually likes himself.

(Because...because...)

I...

I need to practice my hook shot.

I'll stay after practice and work on it.

Coach'll like that.

And it'll give me a chance to talk to Troy about his singing thing.

Maybe find out what it is that makes him so happy.

So I can find my own -

So I can be me.

And like him.

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**Author's Note: Thanks for reading - please review!**


	7. Martha: From Ice, Crushed

**Author's Note: Welcome back. In our last chapter, we checked in with the last member of the six who didn't reveal their secrets during "Stick to the Status Quo". Chad talked about Zeke, and in so doing revealed his secret: he hates himself. This time we get a little brighter with Martha.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I'd be singing and dancing in it, gosh darnit.**

* * *

The whole school is talking about how Sharpay Evans made the absolute biggest scene ever at lunch.

It was last week.

And they're still talking about it.

Some people have nothing else better to do.

Or maybe -

Maybe it's because the better thing to do would be too hurtful.

Maybe it's because the better thing to do is to confront in themselves why they feel the need to be so petty.

Maybe it's because the better thing to do would be to say nothing at all.

Or offer a helping hand.

Nobody offered to help Sharpay with her blouse.

She stormed off.

Ryan looked lost.

Nobody had told him what to do.

Everybody went back to normal.

Except with more whispering than yelling.

I went over to Ryan.

Go after her.

Take her to the home ec rooms.

Mrs. Swintzel can take care of the stain for her.

He gave me this look.

As if he wanted to say:

Are we -

Friends?

Because last time I looked, we didn't speak to each other.

But he didn't say a word.

Just nodded and smiled and left.

With his fries.

I saw Sharpay in sixth period later that day.

She looked furious.

As usual.

But there was something...

Different.

She just...

Wasn't as unapproachable as before.

The Ice Queen had cracked.

Gone loco.

In front of the entire school.

Or at least our lunch period.

And as much as she tried to hide it, she was:

Vulnerable.

Fallible.

Hurt.

She sees Gabriella as an invader.

Because with Sharpay everything is give or take.

No middle ground.

You either have it, or you don't.

Nobody shares her spotlight.

(Not even poor Ryan.)

And since Gabriella is invading, she is the Queen on the throne repelling the invader.

The Queen under attack.

And no Queen can sleep at night when her kingdom is being pillaged -

Especially since the pillaging is destroying the Queen's poisonous influence.

And -

I'm getting carried away.

The thing is:

Sharpay was concerned.

About herself, of course.

But she was concerned.

And that's a start, at least.

No iceberg ever separated without there first being the tiniest of cracks.

Today:

Sixth period.

With Sharpay.

And I can still see the cracks.

Hidden under make-up and ego and lies.

But still there.

And some part of me can't help but think she'll be better off when she melts.

She'll be freer.

And maybe -

Oh.

Ryan's staring at me.

Those eyes...

That body...

And the sweet smile...

Oh.

He looks confused.

I just smile and wave.

He turns back around.

Some part of me can't help but think he'll be better off when she melts.

He'll be freer.

And maybe -

Just maybe -

We can be -

Friends.

I'd like that.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	8. Gabriella: It Has Swallowed Me Up

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, Martha came to talk about Sharpay, and revealed her second secret: she has a crush on Ryan. In this chapter, we find ourselves with Gabriella.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I'd be eating chicken every night.**

* * *

Leave the door open, Kelsi.

Let some light in.

I'll see you in history.

She's sweet.

We've been practicing every day.

But I still don't feel confident.

I've always sung melody.

Never harmony.

I didn't sing in choirs, church or school.

Didn't want to end up liking it.

And then having to miss it when I moved away.

But now -

Now -

I...

I'm willing to give it a try.

And it's not just for Troy, although...

He is a big part of it.

But I really feel like now -

More than ever -

I have to do what I want.

I have to be...

Me.

Because there are so many other people here that feel...

Trapped.

As if they can't express themselves.

And I can't just write them off!

Because I've felt like that, too.

Felt like Troy.

And Zeke.

And Martha.

Maybe most like Martha.

I mean, I'm not a secret hip hop fan or anything like that.

But I know how she feels:

Homework first, everything else second.

Pressure from everywhere -

Friends, teachers, family.

It's like you can't get away from it -

Them.

You're stuck in this one place -

This persona -

Which isn't a person, it's an image;

A fake image -

A reflection.

But a reflection never shows the truth;

Only what it's shown by the light.

Nobody ever sees the darkness.

I...

I really hope Martha doesn't feel the way I've felt.

Doesn't feel like everything's closing in on her.

Pressure from everywhere -

These walls, this ceiling, this floor.

I...

I never noticed how small this room was when it was just me in here.

All alone -

At first.

But now -

Now -

I can see the light peeking through the door.

And I know I'm just making something out of nothing.

Feeling fear when all there is -

Is light.

Light that shows the way out.

So now -

More than ever -

I have to do what I want.

And what I want is to sing.

So nobody -

Nobody -

Is going to stop me.

Not even...

Me.

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**Author's Note: Like what you've read? Great! Didn't like what you've read? That's okay, too. Just let me know in the review!**


	9. Zeke: Clap the Cook In Bars of Chocolate

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, Gabriella stepped in to talk about Martha, and revealed her second secret: she has problems with claustrophobia. This time, we're chatting with Zeke.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I wouldn't look like an electrified poodle.**

* * *

I never understood how he passes history.

He never takes notes.

Just kinda sits there and stares off into space.

Doesn't even ask questions.

And that's really weird behavior for Jason Cross.

But he still passes.

Sometimes wrecks the curve for the rest of us.

And I never understood it.

I work my buns off and I barely scrape seven out of ten on the quizzes.

He sits there and aces them all.

I didn't get it.

But now -

Now -

I get it.

It's 'cause Jason trusts himself.

Trusts his memory.

Everything's like a picture, Zeke.

Got a big album of everything in my head.

All I gotta do is flip through all the pictures 'til I find what I want.

I'm so jealous.

Some days I can barely remember where history class is.

And the dude flies through the notes so fast it's like he's on speed or something.

And I swear he hates me 'cause he's always giving me this weird look.

And I...

I'm exaggerating.

Mr. Rockford doesn't hate me; he glares at everyone like that.

The notes go at a pretty steady pace; I just can't keep up.

And my memory's just fine.

I mean, I can recite my banana bread recipe by heart.

With all the measurements and everything.

That's something to be proud of.

But -

I just wish that sometimes...

I just feel like I want to be...

Something -

Someone -

Who can be...

A little more substantial.

Even my big secret wasn't all that big.

I bake.

Whoopdee-frickin'-do.

Troy sings, that girl dances, that guy plays the cello;

Those are big things.

They can perform for a bunch of people.

And they all clap for them.

No matter how well -

Or badly -

They do.

But if my cake's too sweet -

Or too dry -

Or there's too much frosting:

I get my buns burnt off.

I just wish that people appreciated my work.

All they ever do is criticize.

It's too buttery.

Too hard.

Too soggy.

You're too lazy.

Too stupid.

Practically useless.

Oh, honey.

I'm sorry.

You know what this medicine does to me.

I don't mean it.

That's okay, Mom.

I understand.

_"I don't mind."_

I...

I'm understating.

I've got to study for this history test.

And I've got to make the pie look good on the outside.

Even though I know it's going to be too salty.

'Cause my tissues are the batter.

So:

I don't have time for this maudlin.

I've got to keep performing.

* * *

**Author's Note: Like it? Lump it? That's cool; leave a review!**


	10. Troy: Dark Horses Always Win

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, Zeke offered his thoughts on Jason, and revealed his second secret: his parents are overly critical. This time, we turn to our final character, Troy. There will be one additional chapter after this one, and then we're done!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I'd give Chad and Ryan solos.**

* * *

11:49 P.M.

I'm still awake.

I've been trying to sleep for almost an hour now.

But -

I can't.

It's like trying to sleep on Christmas Eve.

Except the thing I'm anticipating is much more...

Disturbing.

I guess I really am trying to put it off.

The longer I stay awake, the longer I can keep them away.

Them.

The nightmares.

They come to me a few nights a week.

More often when I'm stressed out.

And since tryouts they've come every night.

They're always the same.

Somehow we're all together.

All the Wildcats.

Like a party.

And we're all having fun.

Dancing.

Drinking.

Laughing:

Fun.

But then -

Then -

It all stops.

People start arguing.

Fighting.

And everyone has something to say to me.

Usually about how worthless I am.

Or how they think I've let them down.

And when I wake up -

Panting -

Wild -

I know that it's all a dream.

My friends support me.

They've always got my back.

But now -

Now -

For the first time in a long time -

Only Gabriella -

Who doesn't even know me -

Is on my side.

Even Chad thinks I'm making a mistake.

Which hurts.

For as long as I can remember, we've been...

Inseparable.

Practically brothers.

And I know that brothers argue, but...

Never like this.

Never has he not come around to my way of thinking.

Never has he not defended me, even when he knows I'm wrong.

Never has he abandoned me.

And now -

Now -

He has.

And it hurts.

Hurts more than anything the nightmares have ever thrown at me.

So:

I can't sleep.

I can't let myself sleep.

Because I know they'll come.

Because in the latest nightmares, we're all having fun.

And Chad comes over and says he's so proud of us.

Of the team.

And how we're going to win it all this season.

And then we hug.

And then -

Then -

I feel it.

I know you're not supposed to feel anything in dreams.

They're only dreams.

They're not real.

But I swear:

I feel something digging into me when Chad hugs me in the nightmare.

And when he pulls away, he's still smiling.

Like nothing's wrong.

And I look down:

A knife, sticking out of my chest -

My heart.

And I look down:

Blood pooling on -

My hands.

And I look up:

Chad's still smiling.

You're the one who killed us, Troy.

I scream.

And I look up:

The red light gleams.

12:26 A.M.

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**Author's Note: What did you think? I'm the most nervous about this one, so please give me some feedback. Remember: there's one more chapter to go!**


	11. Finale: An Ethereal Lucidity

**Author's Note: Welcome back. Last time, Troy voiced his thoughts on Chad, and revealed his second secret: he's been having nightmares. In this final chapter, we see everything coming together in a unique way. See if you can figure out what's going on before Troy does.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, I'd be living in a nice house.**

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Troy smiled to himself as he slowly snaked through his living room, winding a wending way around various Wildcats in various stages of inebriation. For the record, he hadn't brought the booze and he didn't know who did. Of course, he didn't really care - his parents had just smiled when he asked to have the party. He hadn't seen them since the beginning of the night, when they went upstairs to their room, making dreamy eyes at each other. Troy just hoped their door was locked and no pictures fell off his wall this time.

Finally, he made it through the throng of chattering Wildcats and into the kitchen. Food of all nutrition levels decorated the counters and the island in the center of the room, with the most nutrituous choices surviving the teenagers' attack. Troy did not find himself alone in this room, either, although it had been savagely pillaged and mostly abandoned about a good hour ago.

"Hey, Captain," Jason greeted with a salute of his carrot stick.

"Hey, Jason. Taking a break?" Troy replied, grinning as he moved to rinse out his cup in the sink. He'd been nursing it for the past hour and a half before eventually deciding that getting smashed wasn't his goal tonight. Somebody would probably end up needing a ride home when all the vomiting was said and done, and he, being a polite and courteous host, would happily oblige.

Just as long as they didn't puke all over his mother's Suburban.

"You could say that," Jason said as Troy filled his cup with tap water, "I'm just going through some of the pics I took today."

Troy turned, intrigued. He hadn't noticed that Jason was holding a rather large camera in his hands - along with the now-digesting carrot stick - and, apparently, scanning through his picture card.

"You took pictures?" Troy repeated. He felt a little dumb stating the obvious, but there wasn't much else he could say. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought Jason to be a shutterbug.

"Yeah," Jason replied, the tiniest of blushes appearing across his features as he continued to tap buttons on his camera.

"Would you mind another pair of eyes?" Troy asked after a few moments of semi-awkward silence.

Jason looked up.

"You don't think it's...stupid or anything?" he asked.

"Nah," Troy replied immediately, shrugging and sipping his water, "I think it's kinda cool. I suck at taking pictures. My Myspace pic cuts off the top of my head, remember?" he added, grinning.

Jason laughed.

"I'll have to take a better one for you, then," he remarked as Troy came over to look over his shoulder.

"Yeah, you will, Jase. These look awesome," Troy enthused.

And they really did. Jason really had an eye for this kind of stuff. One, especially, caught his eye: a snapshot of Ryan Evans dancing on the impromptu dance floor Troy had created in the den. He was still in his restricting "Bop to the Top" callback outfit, hat and all, but he was caught in a position that Troy could only dream of fitting his body into. But, most of all, he was smiling - widely and freely, not devilishly or confusedly or any other-ly. He was having...fun.

"I gotta check up on Chad," Troy said after Jason had flipped through the entire collection.

"Make sure he's still able to walk, you mean?" Jason joked, laughing.

"Yeah. But Zeke's with him, I think. I hope. Oh, well. Hey, good pics, man," Troy added in departure. Jason just smiled and waved as Troy left the room.

Slowly, Troy once again weaved through the many Wildcats scattered about his house. Some of them stopped him to offer congratulations or other comments and he, of course, stopped to chat with them all until each one was satisfied. Along the way, he spotted an unusual pair on the couch that he couldn't help himself from visiting.

"Troy," Taylor greeted calmly, smiling. "I don't think I got to tell you - congratulations. You played a great game."

"And sang your ass off," Zeke added, grinning. "Dude, I didn't know you had pipes like that!"

Troy grinned, settling down on the arm of the vacant armchair adjacent to the couch. He was sure he was blushing.

"Thanks. And congrats to you, too," he directed to a surprised Taylor, "You did an amazing job with those African capitals."

"Wow. You were actually listening when Gabriella told you about the decathalon?" Taylor asked, raising both eyebrows.

"Yeah," Troy replied, shrugging, "She listens to me when I go on about games, and I know she could care less."

Taylor sunk slowly back into the couch, affixing Troy with a stare he couldn't quite figure out. Zeke noticed this and, naturally, leapt to his Captain's aid.

"So where is that girl of yours, Troy?" he asked. Taylor immediately smacked him on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he screeched.

"Girls are not things to be kept track of at every second, Baylor. I have no idea what I'm going to do with you, honestly. You're never going to impress this crush of yours if you keep acting like a misogynistic bastard," Taylor quipped, but she couldn't hide a grin.

"Crush? Zeke has a crush?" Troy chirped, grinning as well. Zeke groaned.

"Thanks, Taylor," he deadpanned. Taylor smacked him again, although lighter this time.

"Oh, shut yer trap, Zeke. It's not like he knows who she is or anything. Hell, I don't even know who this mystery girl of yours is. I've been trying to get him to tell me," Taylor admitted to Troy, "But he's got his lips shut tighter than a ten-cent whore who hasn't been paid yet."

Troy raised his eyebrows. Zeke gawked.

Then all three of them broke into peals of laughter.

"Seriously, though, seriously," Taylor tried to say through her giggles, "Seriously, Zeke. If you want to impress her, you don't have to give her stuff. You deserve to be liked for just being you. And if this girl's too blind to see past your cookies, then you better give up. Fast. Just...just talk to her like she's a human being. Like she's interesting. Like she's more than a walking pair of tits. Alright? Now go," she demanded.

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Go," she repeated, "I need to talk to Prettyboy here, and you need to talk to your mystery girl before she gets too plastered to remember the conversation. And if she _is_ plastered, I better not catch you making out with her, or your ass is mine. I don't care if she's..." Taylor trailed off for a moment, thinking, "I don't care if she's Sharpay Evans, even. You don't take advantage of a girl when she's drunk. You read me, Baylor?" she threatened.

Zeke nodded quickly - and repeatedly - before getting off the couch.

"Good luck, man," he whispered as he passed Troy. Troy just grinned.

"So," Troy began.

"Look, Bolton. You are one hell of a lucky guy to have Gabriella Montez interested in him. And as Gabriella's best friend, I feel obliged to tell you this: if you ever - EVER - hurt her, I will cut your balls off with kindergarten scissors. We clear?" she asked.

Troy, eyes wide with surprise, nodded quickly - and repeatedly.

"Good. Now if you're looking for your other basketball friends, they're still in the den trying to breakdance and making fools out of themselves in the process. Oh, and Troy," Taylor added as Troy rose from his perch on the arm of the armchair, "Gabriella's one hell of a lucky girl to have you, too."

Troy looked at Taylor's smiling face and grinned. Then, feeling adventurous, he took a step over to her, leant over, and planted a chaste kiss onto her right cheek.

"Bolton..." she started, warningly, eyes wide, but Troy held up a hand to silence her.

"For being the best friend of a girlfriend I've ever met," he said, slowly and genuinely, never once lifting his gaze from her shocked stare. Slowly, her face melted into a smile.

"You're a charmer, Bolton. And a damn good one. Just...save the kisses for Montez, all right?" she said, winking. "Now go on. Go. I've got a feeling I'll be matchmaking all night long," she added, sighing but smiling.

Troy straightened, made to enter the crowd again, then stopped.

"Don't forget to find one for yourself," he advised. Then, before she could say anything more, he whisked himself away into the crowd.

He didn't get far - but it was far enough from Taylor - when he noticed Martha Cox leaning against the wall, staring dreamily at a spot near her left hand (or her left elbow, he wasn't entirely sure). He shrugged - she seemed nice enough when they were working out his idea to make today a success, offering intelligent suggestions and alternatives to some of the more radical ideas - and headed over to her.

"Hey, Martha," he greeted, but she didn't say anything. He waved a hand in front of her face.

"Martha? Martha? Earth to Martha," Troy joked. Martha finally jerked back to reality with a start.

"Oh, hi, Troy. I'm sorry, I was just...elsewhere," she apologized, smiling.

"What were you staring at?" Troy asked, then promptly flinched, "I mean, if you don't mind my asking. I'm just hoping nobody spilled anything on the carpet. It's a bitch getting the stains out. Damn, they didn't spill wine or something, did they? I love my mom, but she must've been on something when she picked white carpeting. I mean, come on, white? Ya sneeze the wrong way and ya stain it. Man, I'm gonna be - "

"Troy, stop," Martha commanded, holding up her left hand, "You're rambling."

"Sorry," Troy apologized, blushing slightly, "Bad habit."

"I wish mine was as cute," Martha remarked, letting her hand fall back down to her side. Troy stood and waited for her to continue, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his favorite jeans that he'd changed into for the party.

"I was staring at my hand, Troy," Martha started, "The boy I really like saw me and came over and introduced himself like he never even knew me even though we both know we do know each other but I'm getting off-track 'cause see he kissed my hand and now I feel like a fangirl at a concert who got her hand touched by the cute guy who sings lead vocals and doesn't want to wash her hand anymore and I know that it's all really silly and even though he didn't get the lead I still think he's really cute especially when he has his shirts tucked in although I don't think I've ever seen him with his shirt untucked because I don't think Sharpay would let him do - "

"Martha, stop," Troy commanded, holding up his left hand, "You're rambling."

"Sorry," Martha apologized, grinning as she refilled her lungs, "I guess it's catchy."

"And still cute, by the way," Troy complimented, winking, "So, you like Ryan Evans, huh?"

"Gabriella told you?" Martha asked, deflating slightly and appearing to bite the corners of her lips.

"No, you did. You said Sharpay wouldn't let him do something, and the only guy Sharpay Evans tolerates is her brother. Even if she treats him like shit," Troy added before he could stop himself.

But if he was being honest, he didn't want to take that last one back. Sharpay did treat Ryan like shit, and it wasn't fair. Sure, Ryan wasn't exactly the type of guy Troy wanted to hang out with or anything, and he might possibly be gay, but that didn't mean Sharpay had to treat him like some sort of...Igor.

"Yeah, she does, but I think it's just because she cares," Martha defended.

Troy gaped.

"She 'cares'?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Martha replied, shrugging, "He's her brother. He's family. Treating him like that is her way of toughening him up because he's not...well, he's not like you, Troy. He's not sporty or strong or smart or anything even close to being acceptable for a guy."

"I think I see what you mean. People are going to take advantage of him?" Troy asked.

"And he'll let them," Martha added, nodding, "Because he's sweet - but naive. Sharpay's just trying to teach him that there are people out there who aren't all cookies and cobbler."

Troy nodded for a few moments, thinking.

"Go for it, Martha," he advised.

Martha gave him a confused look.

"Ask him out," Troy elaborated, "It sounds like you understand him pretty well. You two'd make a great match."

"Thanks, Troy," Martha said, smiling, "But I don't think that's going to happen. I think I'll just settle for the kiss on the hand. Unless you see him drinking, in which case...point him my way, will you?" she joked, her smile widening.

"Will do," Troy laughed back, and returned to the crowd of people moving through his house. He finally succeeded in reaching the den, where he saw a sight he never thought he would see:

Kelsi Nielson, Sharpay, and Gabriella, dancing.

Together.

It was all very odd, but nobody seemed to be protesting. Of course, they weren't alone: half of the basketball team was also rocking out to some song blasting through the speakers that Troy neither knew nor cared about at the moment. Even some of the members of the decathalon team - decathalonners? - were gyrating wildly to the music.

The song ended quickly though, and the girls separated after a cheer, laughing with each other. Sharpay led Gabriella through the crowd to a narrow hallway as Kelsi headed in his direction. He scanned the room for Chad, but couldn't see him. Maybe Kelsi knew.

"Hey, Playmaker. Nice moves," Troy complimented, grinning as the small girl stepped off of the impromptu dance floor. Troy had created it earlier by moving all of the furniture in the den to the sides of the room.

"Oh, hi, Troy. Thanks," Kelsi said quietly, smiling as she sat on a futon Troy had slid to the north wall of the room. He joined her on it.

"Have you seen Chad lately?" he asked.

"He was here up until...oh, about three songs ago. Then he went off to the...um...I think maybe your dining room? It was that way," Kelsi finished, pointing towards a hallway.

"Yeah, that's the way to the dining room," Troy affirmed. He nodded, then nodded a little more slowly, quirking his mouth oddly.

"Well, this isn't an awkward moment," Kelsi joked. Troy laughed nervously.

"Yeah, sorry. I just don't know what to talk about now that callbacks are done and all," he admitted.

Kelsi cocked her head at him at an odd angle, as if examining him more closely.

"Well. I guess I can't blame you. I haven't really told you anything about myself, so how could you know what to say?" she said, her voice drifting somewhat dreamily at the end.

"So, uh...what's your favorite color?" Troy asked awkwardly, grinning.

Kelsi laughed lightly.

"Blue. You?" Kelsi asked.

"Red," Troy said.

"Please don't say 'and white', or I might have to hurt you," Kelsi muttered.

"Hey! What's wrong with school spirit?" Troy asked, laughing.

"Nothing at all - in small doses. But I draw the line at face paint. Makes people look like Tammy Faye Baker," Kelsi jibed, rolling her eyes.

"I remember her," Troy said, "My mom said she tried to get her to come to my sixth birthday party as a clown, but she never wrote back."

"She didn't!" Kelsi said, slowly, shaking her head and grinning.

"She did! Well...I guess I never saw her mail the letter out, so I don't really know..." Troy trailed off, smirking. They both laughed a little before Kelsi suddenly straightened up to peer over Troy's shoulder. Troy made a move to turn around, but Kelsi grabbed his arm.

"Don't! He's been staring at me for the past five minutes and I don't want him to know that I know," Kelsi said through a grin, barely moving her mouth, "Just keep pretending we're talking."

"Would it help if I went to go find Chad so you can talk to Mr. Googly-Eyes?" Troy teased. Kelsi smacked him on the arm she had latched onto.

"Hey!" Troy protested.

"Yes, it would help," Kelsi saucily returned, sticking out her tongue, "So go on, shoo, before he starts getting the wrong idea."

Troy grinned and saluted cockily before making for the hallway that led to his dining room. Along the way he dodged a couple couples trying to feel for their partners' wisdom teeth with their tongues before entering the crowded dining room. He couldn't find Chad immediately, but he did find the Bolton family dog, Petri, squatting near one of the table legs.

"Petri!" Troy barked. "Come on, man! Ugh," he muttered as Petri finished, then scraped the carpet with his back legs in a vain attempt to cover up his mess.

"Get outta here!" Troy ordered. Petri turned around, wagged his tail, then scampered out of the room. Troy sighed and knelt down.

"Do you, uh...need some help?" a voice asked. Troy looked up into the towering figure of Ryan Evans.

"Uh...yeah, actually. Can you get me a napkin off the table, please?" Troy asked. Ryan nodded, reaching with for a napkin out of the holder. He handed it to a waiting Troy, who grimaced as he fit it like a glove and reached down.

"Eww...you're actually...touching that stuff?" Ryan asked.

Troy raised an eyebrow as he quickly rose and sped to the small bathroom adjacent to the dining room.

"How else is it gonna get cleaned, dude?" Troy replied over the sound of the flushing toilet. He rejoined Ryan in the dining room.

"I dunno. Usually whenever Sharpay's dog does...that, it's been cleaned up the next time I walk past the spot," Ryan answered, shrugging.

"By the maid?" Troy sniped.

Ryan stared for a few moments, then nodded, his eyes widening.

"So _that's_ how it got done!" he said, awestruck.

Troy's eyebrow raised even higher. Ryan Evans was a great actor, a better singer, and an even better dancer, but a terrible student. In fact, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't recall Ryan ever speaking up in any class he shared with Troy, except for homeroom with Darbus.

Actually, Troy realized, this was their first conversation ever between just the two of them, with no Sharpay or Wildcats or Gabriella around.

"So...I heard they're doing _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ downtown at the community theatre. You and Sharpay going to try out?" Troy asked.

"Just Shar," Ryan replied quietly, staring into his red cup, "She can handle rehearsing for two shows at once, but I...I don't have that kind of stamina," he admitted.

"Well...actually, that kinda works out," Troy blurted. Ryan looked up, agonized.

"It...does?" he asked.

"Yeah," Troy replied, "See, I was kinda hoping you'd maybe help me out a little bit. Actually, a lot. I'm kinda new to this whole performing thing and, well...you're kinda the authority on the stage, man," Troy ended, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ryan stared for a few moments, unmoving. Then, slowly, he nodded, breaking into a brilliant grin.

"I'd be happy to, Troy," he agreed, then held out his hand. Troy looked down at it, looked up at Ryan, and gripped the proffered hand in a strong handshake - which Ryan returned with equal strength.

"Damn, man! I didn't know you had such a killer grip. Why don't you do sports?" Troy asked, grinning.

Ryan blushed.

"I did, when I was younger, but Shar always wanted to do something or another, so...I guess I kinda just stopped. I dunno why, really," Ryan mumbled.

"Well, you should definitely get back into 'em, man," Troy advised. "Oh, hey, have you seen Chad lately?" Troy added.

"I saw him in the den about an hour ago...but after that, I have no idea. Sorry," Ryan apologized.

"No prob, man. Catch ya later," Troy promised, "Oh, and Martha was looking for you. She's in the living room," Troy added, passing into the breezeway to the backyard. It was much darker there - he could barely see anything and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the lack of light. Once they did, though, he was able to make out two figures standing face-to-face on the lawn.

"Dream on, Montez!" one screeched.

"Sharpay, what is your problem?" the other cried back.

"My problem? My problem is you, Montez! You think you can come in here and turn the entire school into some sort of merry-go-round carnival ride when you know damn well that it's not!" Sharpay yelled.

"Sharpay!" Gabriella repeated.

"And then you try out _by accident_ and take my part away from me! And on top of it all you take the only boy I ever wanted in this dump!" Sharpay continued.

"Sharpay..." Troy whispered, astonished.

She didn't hear.

"And now you DARE to ask me for MY help?" Sharpay finished.

"Yes! Yes, I did! I made the big mistake of thinking you were okay with all this! 'Break a leg', my foot! There's only one thing you care about, Sharpay Evans, and that's YOU!" Gabriella screamed.

"That's where you're wrong, Little Miss Perfect," Sharpay countered, "Did you ever stop to wonder why you were put in Darbus' homeroom? Or how McKessie got her hands on your wiz kid history? Or why no teachers ever stopped your little impromptu rehearsals with Kelsi in the music room, which, by the way, was NOT allowed to be in use during free period?"

"I...no, Sharpay," Gabriella admitted.

"That's what I thought," Sharpay snapped. She turned and stalked back into the Bolton's house, passing a confused Troy without a single word. When she got to the threshold of the breezeway, she stopped, just within Troy's earshot but not Gabriella's.

"I like her, Troy. She's good for you. And if you say a word about any of this, I will vehemently deny it," she whispered.

"Sharpay..." Troy started.

"Just...go. She needs you," Sharpay murmured. Without another word, she vanished into the darkness of the breezeway.

Troy turned and crossed over to Gabriella.

"You okay, Gab?" he asked.

"She's had a couple drinks, Troy. She obviously didn't know what she was saying," Gabriella muttered, staring at a spot on the wooden fence.

"Are you okay, Gabriella? Do you want to go inside?" Troy asked, putting a steering hand onto her back.

"NO!" Gabriella shouted, stepping away from Troy's hand. "I...I'm sorry, Troy. I just need some air right now. Too many people on that dance floor, y'know?" she said.

Troy nodded, returning his hand to his side.

"She knew. I don't know how...but she knew. And when the song was over, she got me out of there. I thought it would make her happy if she could be involved in the musical - you know, more than she already is now - so I asked her, and she just...lost it! I..." Gabriella trailed off for a moment, then added, "Chad's in your bedroom, Troy."

"How did you - ?" Troy started.

"You haven't seen each other since the game ended. I know you need to talk to your best friend. Just go, Troy. I'll be fine," Gabriella promised.

Troy bit his lip, leaned over, pecked Gabriella once on the lips, and headed back inside the house. As Sharpay had, he stopped in the threshold; unlike her, he turned around.

All he could see was darkness.

He frowned and, trusting that Gabriella had just gone over to sit at one of the picnic tables, turned around again and reentered his house. He passed through the deserted dining room again and into the dark hallway, where he opened a door that contained a stairwell. Troy bounded up them two at a time until he reached the landing, where he turned left and found the door to his room wide open.

Chad was sitting at the foot of his bed.

"'Bout time, Troy," Chad greeted.

For some inexplicable reason, Troy felt anxious. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Chad didn't seem to notice.

"Dude, that game was so awesome! That last shot was so sick, man!" Chad enthused.

Troy tried to speak again, and again nothing came out. He settled for nodding.

"We are so gonna dominate next year, too! SENIOR YEAR, Troy! I can't wait for it!" Chad yelled.

He was still on the bed, and Troy hadn't moved from the doorway. He couldn't move - it was like something had stuck him directly in place.

"I mean, I know I gotta get through the rest of this year first, but y'know what I mean, man. If I even make it through the year. Y'know I suck at absolutely everything anyway. Hell, I probably couldn't have passed last year without those cheat sheets," Chad muttered.

Troy frowned. Chad was being awfully revealing - and degrading. Where had this Chad come from?

"I don't even know how I made it through the game today. I guess...I guess it's all your fault, Troy," Chad accused.

Troy forgot that something had a hold on his voice, and tried to argue. Still nothing came out.

"You always know how to make everybody feel better. I don't know how you do it, Troy, but you do. I guess...I guess it's 'cause you listen," Chad finished.

Then he rose, slowly, and advanced over to Troy.

In one slow, fluid motion, he encapsulated Troy in a bear hug.

When he broke away, Troy felt something alien.

It felt like...

Support.

"You make us feel better because you care," Kelsi whispered, stepping out of Troy's closet.

"Even when you don't know who it is," Martha added, stepping out after Kelsi.

"Or even if they've been terrible to you," Ryan finished, following Martha.

"It's because you're smart," Taylor said, spinning around in Troy's computer chair.

"And you know what not to say," Sharpay added, pushing her head out from underneath the bed.

"And even when you're wrong, you mean well," Jason said, stepping out from behind a curtain.

"That's what really matters: the intention," Zeke told him, stepping out from behind the other curtain.

"Troy?" Gabriella asked.

Troy turned around - and there she was, bathed in the light from the hallway.

"It's time," she said, smiling.

She took him by the hand and led him to the landing of the stairs.

"It's time to go, Troy. Don't forget - you made this all happen here. You can do it down there, too," she directed.

And then she pushed him.

Down, down he fell, tumbling down the stairs.

Into the black void.

He landed on his back.

He opened his eyes.

He was back in his room.

He looked at his alarm clock:

12:26 A.M.

He smiled and rolled over, falling back into the void of sleep.

He didn't dream further that night.

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**Author's Note: I hope you caught the hints! Was I too subtle? Or too heavy-handed? Let me know in your review, and thanks for coming along for the ride. This was a fun exploration of character.**


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